


Scent of You

by font_romantic



Category: Undertale
Genre: Ecto-Penis (Undertale), F/M, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/font_romantic/pseuds/font_romantic
Summary: Sans wakes to find that his paramour has gone and disappeared on him again, probably to work, but who knows; he's a heavy sleeper and wouldn't have woken even if the house was on fire. But now he's on fire, the memories of last night's events sticking to him like glue and ebbing him towards what could only be described as self satisfaction.With only the scent of her on his sheets and the vivid events of the night before to guide him and his hand, he's up for a quick tug before she returns...or he falls asleep-Whichever one cums first.





	Scent of You

Hazy, musty light filtered in through his bedroom window, casting strange bar like shadows across the floor and painting the stark contrast of his skull in shades of imprisoned falseness. He seemed immobilized by the shadowed restraints, his form prone except for the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath the large comforter blanket that covered him up to his chin. Cozy, he snored absently and rolled onto his side, his arm instinctively reaching to grasp, to hold and pull close a body that was no longer there. Falling on empty sheets, his fingers curled against the palm of his carpaled bones and he let out a little sigh of annoyance before he released the almost reflexive fist and smoothed the creased fabric in place.

The girl was gone.

Sometime during the night she’d woken before him, rose from the bed and _somehow_ managed to move around without waking him. Not that that would have been hard; Sans had to admit that when he fell asleep, he slept like the _dead_ , but- he closed his eyes again and breathed deeply, wanting to will himself back to sleep, back to a realm where she might still be lying beside him, curled into him, her fingers sliding between his ribs as she-

“fuck...” he groaned as he curled up tightly beneath the comforter. Arousal hitting him like a freighter as memories from the night before drifted back into the forefront of his mind. Sleep forgotten, he clutched at the blankets they had shared, his hands reaching to pull the now cool comforter towards him as he burrowed his face into its surface. It smelled of him, smelled of sex and sweat, but, most importantly, it smelled of her.

She had the sweetest of scents too. So incredibly human, so incredibly her, lilac and honey, freshly washed skin and hair- he smiled as he pressed his face further into the blankets, shifting so he was gripping the loose sheets as well and pulling them into this makeshift embrace, “right...you’d gone to shower.”

Sans could feel a husky laugh rattle from his chest as he shook his head.

“that’s what started this whole thing,” he willed the images back into his mind. Recalled the way she’d soaked him as he pulled her down into his lap, her rump nestling perfectly between his legs and tautly against the raging hard-on he’d been working on ever since she’d stripped and he’d had the perfect view of her nude silhouette from behind the opaque curtain of the shower. It wasn’t much, her outline the only real thing he could see from where he sat, his head resting on one of his hands as he leaned forward on a knee and leered, but it had been just enough to tease him into arousal and get him wanting more.

So when she’d returned, wrapped in a towel with her wet hair plastered against her jawline and neck, he couldn’t help but want to gnaw on her. To trace the outline he’d been leering at with the roughness of his hands and press and squeeze every inch of her plump, fleshy body until she bruised beneath his touch.

“christ,” he moaned this time, a bulge straining against the confines of his shorts as he inhaled again and took in the damp scent of the fading juices and fluids that still mingled among the cloth and fibers of his sheets. He felt like an animal in heat, his hips working instinctively to rub against anything with girth until finally his hand found its way down to his throbbing prick and the glowing pre that dribbled from its hungry tip. He missed her then. Missed how she’d laid him back and took him in her hands, stroking and tugging him to the brink before settling her lips against the head and giving him the most erotic, breathy kiss he thought he could ever stand.

It didn’t take long before she was sliding him into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the tip as she squeezed her palm around the base of his ecto-plasmic member and proceeded to slide her free hand up beneath his shirt where she could scratch soft, marring lines into his ribcage.

It made him drool then, as the memory of it made him drool now. His hand working over his stiff, ebbing cock with slow, careful precision. He didn’t want to finish too soon, but the way he was laying, his face pressing insistently into the sheets as he inhaled every mnemonic scent, his hips rocking into his grip with a thirsty need for release, he didn’t know how much longer he would last. He could practically feel her lips closing over him, testing the solidity of his conjured cock as she squeezed and outlined each individual vein with her tongue and fingers. It was torture, it was bliss, he never wanted it to end-

“a-unh...f-fuck,” Sans shuddered as his boney palm clasped over the head of his dick and his body shook with release as he came. Thick, creamy magic spilling from between the cracks in his phalanges and soaking his blankets even more than they’d originally been with his own tingling seed. He gasped as his hand twitched for another even stroke, lubing up his cock with his own fluids as if to ready himself for entry into whatever hole might be waiting for him outside his own palm.

But there was no one.

The girl had gone and he was left to wallow in the euphoric memory of her legs wrapped around his hips as he thrust into her. Rutting her roughly against the very same bed he now lay in lonesome on. He missed her, the shape of her hips and the bounce of her tits as they fucked, near endlessly, into the night. The look on her face, one of pain and pleasure, still teased his now fading erection, but he cared not to will it back. He’d finished, the tingles of his orgasm now lilting away as satiated sleep once again settled over his eyes and he relaxed once more against his pillow. His eyes closing.

Falteringly, he pressed his sleepy grin into the bunched up sheets that reminded him, with their cold, fading scent, that he was still alone and sighed in semi-contentedness. As an escort to sleep, that sigh carried his consciousness away and after a few minutes of slow, undisturbed breathing, his snoring resumed and Sans was asleep.

Alone, but asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something to get the juices flowing between chapters of 'Graveyard Shift'. 
> 
> I love Sans and I'll never stop loving Sans, so have some pandering masturbation fluff that I couldn't stop thinking about while I wade through plot and story and hope I can get to the good stuff in 'GYS' before I lose my mind.
> 
> \---
> 
> This is unrelated to 'GYS' and "the girl" can really be anyone- reader, Frisk, some rando- whomever you want it to be. It's just something fun meant to pass the time.
> 
> Hope you liked it!


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